Stole My Heart – Parshat Mishpatim 5776

Stole My Heart

The holiday of roses and candy hearts is a week away, and though Valentine’s Day got its start as a Christian liturgical celebration, this week’s Torah portion coincidently contains some interesting points about intimate relationships. Specifically, the Torah discusses how proper relationships should be formed and provides a literal explanation of a “stolen heart.”

In last week’s parshah, among the laws the Israelites received to govern their society were the Ten Commandments. A handful of those ten, including the prohibition against stealing, are applicable beyond the religious setting and have a place in our secular laws as well, but how far does the definition of “stealing” actually reach? Does is have any application in relationships?

This week we read parshat Mishpatim, the middle section of text in Sefer Shemot, the book of Exodus. The Israelites are on their way out of Egypt and to Israel. As we read last week, they have begun to set up their own system of laws and rules, and interpersonal relationships make up the core of the laws set forth in this section of text. After first establishing a basic framework to guide our lives, the Torah then turns toward how we treat one another personally and professionally.

In particular, chapter 22, verse 15 turns to the ways in which intimate relationships might be formed. The Torah teaches, “If a man seduces a virgin for whom the bride-price has not been paid, and lies with her, he must make her his wife by payment of a bride-price.” That is to say that the Torah views this form of seduction as monetary theft, not just emotional theft. For our modern sensibilities, we might extend this to mean we shouldn’t deceive our potential partners. By not sharing who you truly are or being honest about your intentions and expectations, you have “stolen” the opportunity for others to make their own informed decisions. In fact, this concept is referred to in our tradition as gneivat da’at, or stealing someone’s opinion.

What better time than in a nation’s infancy to establish laws requiring the Israelites to be open, honest, and true to who they are? A society built on deception (like a relationship built on seduction alone) doesn’t adhere to the standards set in our parshah and cannot thrive. Instead, God creates a guide for us to build our community on mutual respect. Unfortunately, “We mutually respect each other” doesn’t quite fit on a candy heart.

Do It Or Else – Parshat Yitro 5776

Do It Or Else

Raising my “threenager” (though she won’t be three until September, I’m pretty sure this term applies), I am constantly straddling the line between coercion and freedom of choice. In some circumstances it’s totally acceptable for my daughter to have the final say. Does it really make a difference if she wears the purple socks or the rainbow socks to shul? No, not as long as she’s wearing socks.

Of course there are times when Mommy has to put her foot down. As parents, we have to have our bottom lines. I’ve made peace with this, and I don’t mind standing firm on an issue that’s for my child’s own good. Rather, it’s the persuasion game that I don’t care for. We each develop our own bag of tricks (and threats) to use in cases when you need your child to do something you know she doesn’t want to do. I can tell myself a thousand times that I have her best interests at heart, but I often end up feeling guilty when I’ve tricked or threatened my toddler into following the rules.

Our Torah portion this week, parshat Yitro, paints a familiar picture of God as the parent. The text begins with the Israelites arriving at Mount Sinai and the preparations for the presenting and accepting of the commandments. As a side note, this event is sometimes called a “theophany,” which is a term of Greek origin to describe a manifestation of God. Following this momentous event, the Israelites are able to move on in their journey in the desert, now in possession of the laws meant to help them build a healthy society.

Chapter 19, verses 7-8 read: “Moses came and summoned the elders of the people and put before them all that the Lord had commanded him. All the people answered as one, saying, ‘All that the Lord has spoken we will do!’ And Moses brought back the people’s word to the Lord.” It sounds simple enough; Moses as the messenger shares God’s word with the people and they agree to follow it. But hidden in this simple encounter lies an unusual occurrence: the people all answered as one. Is it possible that the hundreds of thousands of Israelites standing at the bottom of the mountain all opened their mouths at the same time without arguing and agreed, together as a people? That seems more than a bit unusual.

The Talmud explains this phenomenon as God compelling them to answer by lifting the mountain over their heads, threatening to crush them with it unless they accept the Torah. That sounds to me like anything but free will. Another tradition likens this moment to God suspending the mountain not as a threat to crush the people, but to create a huppah, a wedding canopy, so that God and the Israelite nation are joined together in the covenant. While these two interpretations of God’s intent are polar opposites, it makes complete sense that an event of this magnitude would mix both joy and fear, the extremes which are illustrated.

Let us extend this idea further. Being a part of the Jewish community and living a Jewish life means that we have moments of intense joy and intense sadness. With as many life cycle events and holidays as we have, it comes with the territory. In either case these moments compel us to stick together and to speak as one. Furthermore, you may want to follow a strict Pesach kashrut practice, but decide on a less traditional Shabbat observance if that works for your family. If we’re always building, learning, and growing together as a people, the color of your socks – so to speak – is up to you.

Thirsty For More – Parshat Beshalach 5776

Thirsty For More

If you see me on a regular basis, you’ve seen the purple CamelBak water bottle that I carry everywhere. It may surprise you to learn that for most of my life I hated (I mean really HATED) drinking plain water.  There was nothing fun or flavorful about it, and it was a huge chore to force down anything other than Diet Coke.  At age twenty-five I decided it was time to take control of my weight, my health, and my future, so I started drinking water.

I didn’t quit the colors and flavors cold turkey of course. First it was flavored, carbonated water, then it was diluted flavored water, then just carbonated water. Finally, I could stomach plain old water. My water bottle became like an appendage, and I felt totally lost without it by my side. At a certain point, I started to crave water so much that I was drinking up to four liters a day. That ended soon after I started teaching and had long stretches in the classroom. However, to this day I can’t go more than twenty minutes without craving a delicious gulp of room-temperature water from my little personal reservoir.

Water is a life force and a life-sustaining force.  From the moment of our conception, we are immersed, and we use water throughout our lives to clean, purify, hydrate, and refresh. I’ve written before about the use and symbolism of water in the Torah. Parshat Beshalach, which we read this Shabbat, is perhaps more associated with water than any other parshah because it contains the crossing of Yam Suph. After the children of Israel leave Egypt, they journey with Moses through the wilderness until they reach the bank of the Sea of Reeds, stranded between the body of water and their pursuers, the Egyptians. After the Israelites safely cross to dry land, the water, which parted to save their lives, closes in on the Egyptians.

Not long after this water-based miracle, the Israelites complain about their water supply and the taste of it. The Israelites clearly know they need water to survive, and yet they don’t seem to have a grasp on the type or how much they might need. We learn in chapter 15 that the Israelites traveled three days in the wilderness and found no water. Even if my CamelBak wasn’t a constant companion, three days would still be too long to go without water. Our sages delve deeper into this particular span of time and ask, why is three days so notable? They teach that water in the Torah is actually a symbol of Torah itself, and just as the body cannot go three days without water, the soul cannot go three days without some life-sustaining contact with Torah. Interestingly, this is also the reason why we never go more than three days in a row without reading Torah.

What is the life-sustaining force in this metaphor for you? What is the thing you need a regular supply of to refresh and revitalize your spirit? Whether it’s learning, running, cooking, or making music, the Israelites’ journey in the wilderness reminds us to partake every day of the things that nourish our souls as well as our bodies.